


Tennis Greats of the Past

by grrriliketigers



Category: It's Complicated (2010), The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Sports, Alternate Universe - Tennis, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12086382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grrriliketigers/pseuds/grrriliketigers
Summary: Miranda Priestly and Jane Adler are two semi-retired tennis greats who have cultivated and maintained a bitter rivalry over the course of two formidable careers. Much to the chagrin of both women, their record culminated in a tie. The opportunity to right this great wrong and set the record straight once and for all arises in the form of a charity tennis tournament tour.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are some things that I think push the boundaries of IC Miranda, but I think that subtle differences in personality from movie Miranda can be attributed to the completely different career path which would result in very different experiences.

“Miranda?” Emily called tentatively, walking closer to her boss. Her boss who did not like to be interrupted when she was practicing with the automatic serving machine. Her boss whose tennis serve could be classified as a lethal weapon under the right circumstances. 

“Yes, Emily; _viens, viens_!” She beckoned her impatiently. 

“Leslie called.” Emily started hesitantly. “It’s… about the fundraising tour?”

“Yes, what about it?” Miranda’s racket made contact and Emily jumped a little. 

“The schedule has been set and… one of your matches… is a doubles round.” 

“I suspected I would play doubles at some point.” Miranda shrugged, unimpressed. 

“No, I know. It’s just… your partner. They… they...” 

Miranda turned to Emily and a serve flew past the older woman and she didn’t bat so much as an eyelash as she stared the redhead down. “Don’t say it.” 

Emily felt as though she was going to be sick to her stomach. She took a deep breath and, in the softest voice she could make and still be heard, whispered, “Jane Adler.” 

“Unacceptable.” Miranda huffed. “Surely, I must be playing against her at some point… We have the most legendary rivalry in the history of the sport.” 

Another ball sailed past, this one passing dangerously close, still Miranda seemed not to notice it. 

“I know! I think maybe…” Emily bit the inside of her lip. “They want it to be friendly? Since it is for charity?”

“The whole ‘Tennis Greats of the Past’ was insulting enough already!” Miranda snapped. “The only reason why I agreed to it instead of just writing a check was the chance to play Jane Adler again and break that interminable _tie_.” She spat the word as though it left a bitter taste in her mouth. 

“Of course, Miranda.” Emily agreed, clutching her clipboard anxiously.

“Call them back and tell them that I will not have her as a doubles partner.” Miranda growled. “I don’t care if it _is_ a fundraiser. Switch me with Barker or Tanaka.

“I will only play _against_ Jane Adler.” Miranda slammed a ball with gusto. “I am so tired of her hiding behind that ‘media darling’ routine. I _will_ play her and once and for all prove that _I_ am the superior athlete.”

Gritting her teeth angrily, she drew her arm back and her racket made contact with the bright green ball. The ball slammed into the back wall with so much force that it ricocheted off the back wall and Emily had to jump back as it hurtled toward her. 

Miranda huffed and smoothed out her tennis skirt. 

Emily blinked. “Miranda, you’re in the best shape of your career.” 

“Yes, I am.” Miranda thwacked the next ball, this time it landed in-bounds and she awaited the next serve. “So, call whomever you need to call but I will not be in attendance if I am not playing _against_ Jane Adler.” 

“Maybe they wanted you to doubles partner with her because you _are_ so much better?” Emily offered cautiously. 

“Of course I am.” Miranda lobbed the ball over the net. “I don’t spend my time opening coffee shops and publishing baked goods cookbooks. 

“ _Call the committee, Emily_. I don’t think I should need to ask you a third time.” Miranda said menacingly as she slammed another ball which came very close to hitting Emily. 

Emily had the good sense to hear the subtext ‘next time, I shan’t miss.’ 

“Yes, Miranda.” Emily nodded agreeably and excused herself back to the house. 

She opened the backdoor and found Nigel preparing Miranda’s midday meal. She frowned. “Word to the wise… I’d throw out that rabbit food and make her a steak. She’s out for blood today.” 

“She’s Miranda fucking Priestly, she is out for blood every day.” Nigel shook his head dismissively. “And this is not _rabbit food_. This is baby kale with lemon, parmesan, and roasted chickpeas. I’m her nutritionist and lifecoach and I will not be bullied.” 

“It’s your funeral.” Emily mumbled. She put the phone to her ear. 

The backdoor opened again and Miranda stepped through. Nigel looked up and caught her eye and felt like he had icewater in his veins.

“What’s that?” She asked, looking down her nose at the salad. 

“That is…” Nigel started, attempting to gather his strength. “It’s… it is…” 

“While we’re young.” Miranda smirked, grabbing a perrier from the counter and cracking the seal. 

“It’s my lunch.” He said finally. “I was just about to make you a filet mignon.” 

When she didn’t immediately move on, he added, “with bacon.” 

She took a swig of her fizzy water, giving a minute nod of approval. His shoulders relaxed and he sighed inwardly. “I’m going to take a shower. Emily?”

“I’m on with Patrick now.” She called from the other room. 

As Miranda ascended the stairs, Emily re-entered the kitchen, putting the phone down on the counter. “He said ‘I’ll check with Ms. Adler, I’m sure she’d be happy to accommodate Ms. Priestly’s request.’ Can you believe that?”

“That Jane Adler is nice?” Nigel scoffed as he pulled a filet from the refrigerator. “Yes, I can. We’re talking about the woman who takes the time to greet all of her fans at any event. They paparazzi’d her kissing a _baby_ at one event.”

Emily shuddered, remembering, “yes, and all that extra time spent having her picture taken with little monsters, the match got pushed back a half hour. A match with,” Emily pointed to the ceiling as they heard Miranda’s shower starting. “Her highness. A match which Miranda _lost_ \- and she swears six ways from Sunday that she lost because the evening sun got in her eyes.”

“Was that the match where she made _three_ ball boys quit?” 

Emily rolled her eyes a little. “No, it was the match where she made the line judge cry.” 

“Same match when she got suspended from the club for two weeks?” 

“Different match, same club.” Emily corrected. “She _won_ that match though.”

The filet mignon sizzled as Nigel flipped it. Emily looked down at the salad. “You can have that, if you want. I already ate.” 

Emily thought about it, she sighed, “no, I’m on a diet.”

“It’s a _salad_.” Nigel insisted.

“It has unnecessary calories.” Emily shook her head. “I need to stay svelte. Miranda and I are going to Paris in the spring for a tournament.” 

“I’m going to let that go - for now.” Nigel said pointedly, grabbing a plate from the cupboard. He pulled the bacon wrapped fillet from the heat and set it on the plate. 

“That smells divine…” Emily said wistfully. Her phone rang and she picked it up. “Miranda Priestly’s office.” 

Nigel rolled his eyes. 

A melodic laugh wafted through the phone. “Emily Charlton?” 

Emily froze, the blood draining from her face. “Y-yes.” 

“This is Jane Adler.” 

Emily nodded weakly. “I know…” 

“Patrick called me and told me that Miranda was unhappy with the schedule?” She said, her voice sweet. “I’m, of course, a little disappointed that we can’t put our differences behind us. I asked Patrick to make her my doubles partner - I do think we could make a wonderful team. I’m more than happy to play Miranda, though.” 

“Okay.” Emily replied, still stunned. 

“I told Patrick as much but I wanted to call you directly to let you know.” Jane continued. “I look forward to playing her, actually; it’s always fun to play against her.” 

Emily chuckled helplessly. 

“Give Miranda my best, okay?”

“Kay.” Emily furrowed her brow, pulling the phone from her ear and hanging up. 

“You look like someone just ran over your dog.” Nigel chuckled. 

“Jane Adler just called. She wants me to give Miranda her best.” Emily snorted. 

“I have no doubt that Adler will give her best.” Miranda said in a low, menacing voice behind Emily. 

Emily laid a hand over her heart, turning to her boss. 

“Her best will not be sufficient.” Miranda shook her head with a smug grin. Nigel held up the plate of gourmet steak and Miranda grabbed it from him unceremoniously. 

**

“You’re wicked.” Gabby grinned as Jane hung up the phone. 

“All I said was to give her my best.” Jane shrugged. “Let’s overnight a signed copy of the book to Miranda.” 

Gabby laughed. “That’ll drive her crazy.” 

“I don’t know what it is about that woman but she really gets under my skin. Nobody doesn’t like me; I’m nice to everyone.” 

“I know you are, mom.” Gabby pulled herself up to sit on the counter. “But this is Miranda Priestly we’re talking about. Miranda Priestly of the four ex-husbands.” 

“I have an ex-husband too…” Jane pursed her lips. 

“Yeah, but, like, that wasn’t your fault.” Gabby insisted, “I love dad, don’t get me wrong, but that was a shitty thing he did.”

“Gabby…”

“No, like, he wanted to raise us to be good people and then he cheats on his adoring, amazing wife and knocks up a thirty year old?” She held up her hands, “just saying. That’s a dick move. If some guy cheated on me? Dad’d kill him.”

“We’re all… at different places in our journeys, Gabby.” Jane shrugged. 

“Oh! Patrick told me that Jovan Balmont just confirmed. I suggested, since you were short a doubles partner, that perhaps he could arrange a coupling... there could be something there…” 

“Gabby…” 

“Come on, mom. You and Jovan always had that thing.” 

“What _‘thing_?’” Jane’s eyebrows went up, “we had nothing of the sort! I was happily married.” 

“You have _chemistry_ with him! That doubles match with you and Jovan where you played Miranda and Pierre Amal? The stuff of legends!” 

Jane scoffed. “Ha. Jovan and Pierre hardly played, Miranda practically pushed Pierre to the sidelines and then I… I confess that my competitive spirit got the better of me as well...”

“Well, _you_ won.” Gabby grinned. “And Jovan hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around? That’s what people want to see.” 

Jane shook her head again. “My matches were never so well attended as when Miranda and I played.” 

“That works out then. Since you’ll be playing her now. Maybe you’ll even get another boost from Jovan… you know what they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone.”

“Are you trying to pimp out your mother?” Jane snorted. 

“No, I just… you seem sad.” Gabby admitted. “You haven’t been out on a date with a man since Adam the Architect.” 

“I’m not sad…” Jane sighed. “I’m just _single_. Which, Gabby, is not a crime. And now I’ve got something to occupy my time… getting back into shape to wipe the court with Miranda Priestly.”


	2. Chapter 2

Emily opened the door and narrowed her eyes at the doe eyed girl on the threshold. She pursed her lips scrutinizingly. 

“Hi… can I come in?” Andy laughed. 

“You can't just show up whenever... “ 

“Miranda asked me to come. She texted me.” Andy smiled.

Emily moved out of the way and waved her in with annoyance. “So Miranda said jump and you said…” 

“I’d be happy to do her a favor.” Andy finished. 

The two women stepped into the kitchen and Nigel looked at her with raised eyebrows. “This is Nigel.” Emily waved in his direction. 

“Nice to meet you, Nigel.” Andy smiled. 

“And you as well… Six.” 

Andy furrowed her brow. “Six?” She looked down at her shirt, “oh. Yeah, I graduated in ‘06.” 

“College?” 

“High school.” She held out her hand, “I’m Andy.” 

“ _High school_.” He repeated incredulously. “Are you one of Miranda’s… kids?”

Andy laughed, “no. Miranda employs me a couple days a week to play tennis.” She looked back down at her clothes. “But that reminds me. I came straight from work and didn’t have time to change. Is there a bathroom?” 

“Through there.” Emily pointed a door in the hallway. 

“Thanks.” 

“She’s a baby...” Nigel whispered as soon as the door closed behind Andy. 

Emily shrugged. “She was on the Northwestern tennis team. The official story is that she could have gone pro but decided to go into journalism instead.” 

Nigel pulled a face. “ _Journalism_...” 

Miranda returned, wearing fresh bright tennis whites. “Has Andrea arrived?” 

“She’s changing.” Emily replied. 

Miranda looked at Nigel who quickly opened the refrigerator and pulled out a chilled water bottle. Miranda accepted it. “I’ll be waiting for her on the court.” 

A couple moments later Andy emerged from the bathroom wearing her purple Northwestern top and a pair of very tight black shorts. Emily blinked. 

“She’s on the court.” Nigel said, looking between the two women. 

“Thanks.” Andy smiled, slipping out the backdoor. 

“For god’s sake, Charlton, put your eyes back in your head!” Nigel rolled his eyes. “You’re a grown ass woman; it’s embarrassing.” 

Emily smiled sarcastically, flipping him off. 

“Really classy…” 

**

Andy swung hard at the ball, hitting it off the side of her racket and it sailed off the side of the court. 

“You’re distracted.” Miranda said curtly as Andy jogged to retrieve the ball. 

“Well,” Andy shrugged. “I had a stupid argument with my boyfriend. He gives me a hard time about the time I spend at my job.” 

“Men are that way.” Miranda agreed. Andy tossed the ball in the air and sent it hurtling toward Miranda. Miranda swung, making contact and sending it back to Andy. 

“What do I do about it?” 

“I never found a solution. Only an escape hatch.” 

“An escape hatch?” 

“Divorce.” 

“Oh. Right.” Andy nodded as a ball flew past her. 

Miranda’s arms relaxed to her sides. “Andrea, if you aren’t up for playing today… I can make Emily play with me - though she’s not as formidable an opponent.” 

Andy smiled. “Let me just sit for a moment.” She walked over to her bag and retrieved her water bottle. 

Miranda joined her, getting her own water. 

Andy sat down on the court with a thump that only the young could get away with. Miranda opted to remain standing as she took a conservative swig from her water bottle. 

Andy tipped her head back, taking a large swig. “I wish I could just, like, leave for a month.” 

Miranda tilted her head to the side. “You can. Come with me on tour. I’ll need to practice and Emily won’t be sufficient to keep me up to speed when I’ll be playing against some of the best players of our time.” 

“Oh… I can’t though… I don’t even get paid vacation at my job.” 

“I’ll pay you double your salary.”

Andy’s eyes went wide. “You don’t even know what I get paid… and I’m not salary.”

“Oh, dear.” Miranda sighed. “Then I will pay you three times your normal pay. One month. Four cities. All of your meals and board will be paid for” 

Miranda held out her hand. “Say yes, Andrea.” 

“Yes.” Andy nodded with a wide smile, she took Miranda’s hand to shake. 

Miranda pulled Andy to her feet. “Now that we’ve put a smile on your face, are you ready to try and fail to beat me?” 

“Bring it, Priestly.” Andy grinned.


	3. Chapter 3

“Darling, I can carry my own bags.” Jane insisted, trying to grab her suitcase away from Gabby. 

“Not a chance.” Gabby huffed as she carried Jane’s suitcase and her own two and Jane’s tennis racket. “We have to protect your hands and arms. If you pulled a muscle I’d never forgive myself.”

Jane laughed. “You’re ridiculous.” She managed to wrap her hand around the strap of her tennis racket case. “ _At least_ let me have the racket.”

“Okay.” Gabby nodded, panting. 

“Bonjour, Jane.” 

“Hi, Suzette.” Jane smiled and pulled the Frenchwoman into a hug. 

“Have you seen Libby yet?” She asked, referring to her frequent doubles partner and oft rumored tour-fling, Liberty Houlihan. 

“You’re the first one I’ve seen. We just got here.” 

Suzette leaned in, “I heard Beastly Priestly’s going to be here.”

Jane nodded curtly, “so I’ve heard.” 

“Bonne chance. Libby and I are rooting for you to pull ahead.” Suzette whispered conspiratorially. 

“Thank you.” Jane smiled. “You and Liberty should join Gabby and I for drinks sometime soon.” 

“Mais oui!” Suzette grinned. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Jill Martin and did a double take. “I’m going to go say hi to Jill.”

Gabby smiled. “I love your tennis friends.”

“That’s because Sean and Lisle used to order drinks for you.” Jane teased.

“Other reasons too!” Gabby laughed. 

“Darling, you look like you’re going to drop. You’re not a pack mule.” Jane said firmly. “Give me my suitcase.” 

“Okay.” Gabby agreed tiredly. 

Jane took the suitcase and set it on the ground, pulling out the handle. 

“It _rolls_?” Gabby gaped, “oh, _fuck me_...” 

“Gabby, language.” Jane laughed. 

“What just happened?” Gabby asked, “is it my imagination or did all the conversations just stop?” 

Jane laid her hand on Gabby’s forearm and gestured minutely toward the door.

“Wha-” Gabby turned, her ponytail bobbing. “Oh.” 

Miranda stood in the middle of the lobby and slowly pulled off her sunglasses, icy blue eyes piercing Jane to the spot. The woman oozed confidence from every pore. Jane could tell, even from her distance, that Miranda was in incredible shape and she instantly regretted the last several years worth of pastries she’d consumed. 

Jane resolved not to look away first. She may never have had Miranda’s effortless confidence or quite the same level of physical fitness, but Jane always matched her skill. 

With a dismissive toss of her forelock, she turned toward the redhead to her left and said something softly. Emily walked up to the reception desk and Miranda strode up to Jane. 

“Jane. Gabrielle.” Miranda greeted tersely. 

“Miranda.” Jane forced a smile. 

“Nice to see you.” Miranda looked Jane over with disapproval. 

Jane grit her teeth, still trying to smile, but knowing she was probably scowling. 

“All right...” Jane nodded curtly. “See you around.” 

Once they were on the other side of the lobby, Gabby let out the breath she was holding. “I don’t know how you keep your cool with her.” 

Jane wanted to scoff and say ‘I don’t,’ but it was sweet that Gabby thought that of her anyway. Jane put an arm around her and gave her a little squeeze, feeling some of her ire towards Miranda fading away. 

“You know what? I’m just glad we get to do this together.” She smiled as they got into the elevator. 

**

Emily walked into Miranda’s room. She flipped on a couple of lights and set her tennis racket on a coat hook. She walked into the bedroom and hung up Miranda’s garment bag. 

“Do you want me to make dinner reservations for a particular time?” 

“Six o’ clock will be fine.” Miranda nodded. She opened the refrigerator and took out a chilled Perrier. Emily always made sure that the refrigerator was loaded up with Perrier whenever they travelled. 

“Okay. Reservation made.” Emily put the phone in her pocket. “I'm just going to unpack a few of my things but I'll leave the connecting door open if you need me.”

“Actually,” Miranda began while using a single finger to inspect the contents of the welcome basket. This was the hotel’s doing, Emily could have told them not to bother with it. “I think it would be best if Andrea takes the adjoining room.”

Emily gaped. “ _Andy_? Why?” 

“Why do you insist on calling her ‘Andy?’” Miranda scoffed. 

“Because it's what she’s asked to be called.” Emily smirked, not knowing where the sudden bite came from. “But, circling back around… as your _assistant_ doesn't it make more sense that _I'd_ be in the adjoining room?”

Miranda waved her hand dismissively, not noticing, not caring, or not acknowledging either Emily’s tone or Emily’s correction, she continued. “I'm going to want Andrea to be ready at any moment to head to the court with me. It's just more convenient if she's right through the door.” Miranda took a swig of Perrier. “You'll have a room all to yourself, no adjoining doors. I don't know what you're complaining about. This will practically be a vacation for you.”

“I don't _need_ this to be a vacation. I'm here to do my job and _assist_ you.”

“Emily.” Miranda said in a firm tone. “I'm not going to argue with you.” 

Emily nodded curtly. 

“Now, go to your room and do some unpacking and come back to collect me for dinner.” Miranda pulled out a granny smith apple and absently shined it on her Diane von Furstenberg ruched neck blouse. 

“Yes, Miranda.” Emily said dejectedly and let herself out of the suite. 

Emily knocked solidly on the door to the room that she’d had Andy’s luggage sent up to. A few long moments went by and Emily hit the door again. “Andy!” 

The door opened and Andy’s hair dripped down bare shoulders as she held a fluffy white hotel towel around herself. “Sorry, I was in the shower. What’s up?” 

“Um.” Emily cleared her throat. “Miranda has decreed that you’re in her adjoining room. So, you and I are switching.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Andy nodded. “Just let me get dressed.” 

“Whatever.” Emily rolled her eyes and Andy closed the door. 

The door across the hall opened and Nigel stepped out, arms crossed and smirking. “Don’t tell me Miranda’s already demanding Andy play tennis with her.” 

“Not just yet.” Emily rolled her eyes again. “Dinner’s at six. She wants Andy in the adjoining room. I’ve been banished over here.” 

“You make it sound so glamorous.” He teased. 

Emily looked down at her phone. 

“What are you doing?” Nigel asked knowingly. 

“What? What am I doing?” Emily sighed in exasperation. 

“Don’t ‘ _what_ ’ me. I can see it in your eyes that you’re hovering over her contact again.” 

“I am _not_.” Emily frowned. 

“Woman. I swear to you, if you call Serena again, I’m taking your phone away from you.” 

“You and what army, twinkle toes?” Emily cocked a challenging eyebrow. 

Andy opened the door again, clad in a tight sporty outfit, wet hair still clinging to her face and her tennis bag and racket slung over her shoulder, her wheeling suitcase handle in her hand. 

“What number is it?” Andy smiled. 

Emily held up the key card. “264.” She sighed heavily. 

Andy accepted the card and handed Emily hers. 

“Dinner’s at six.” Emily grumbled. 

Andy smiled indulgently. “Sure. See you then.” 

Emily watched Andy walk down the hallway. Taking advantage of her distraction, Nigel grabbed her phone from her. 

“You mother fucker!” Emily cried in surprise and Nigel retreated back into his room and slammed the door. Emily pounded her fists on it, “ _give me my phone_!”

“Just a sec.” Nigel called. 

“I’m going to kill you.” She threatened through gritted teeth. 

The door opened again and he held out the phone. “Here you go.” She snatched it away with a scowl. “And _you’re welcome_.”

“What did you do?” Emily demanded, frantically scrolling through the phone. She paled as she sucked in a breath. “You bastard.”

“You can’t call her if you don’t have her number.” Nigel smirked. 

Emily’s shoulder slumped, the wind let completely out of her sails. “I can’t believe you did that.” She turned and walked into the room vacated by Andy. 

“Emily!” Nigel called through the door. 

The room felt a little humid from Andy’s recent shower and the scent of lavender body watch pervaded the space as Emily dropped down onto the bed. 

“Emily… come on, I’m sorry…” Nigel continued from the other side of the door. “I just don’t want to see you torture yourself for a whole month.”

“Go away.” Emily mumbled into the pillow. 

Whether he’d heard her or given up on his own, the silence stretched on and Emily buried her face in her pillow.


End file.
